Shi Zhiwan was wanted by his half-brother and fled to the country.
He went all the way south and passed through Jiangnan.
He still remembered that it rained heavily that day, and he happened to be caught by someone.
The hands holding the oil-paper umbrella were thin and strong, and the smiling eyes behind the umbrella were as bright as the moon.
A year later in Jiangnan, war broke out, a new type of psychoactive virus spread across the world, and the town fell.
And the initiator was looking at him with nostalgia behind everything.
Countless nights, he looked at people struggling in nightmares, stretched out his fingertips to touch their foreheads, and led them away from the boundary between reality and illusion.
Until one day, when he was about to reach out to a little girl who was suffering from nightmares, those familiar hands stood in front of him.
Oops, it was discovered.
Purpose: Justice comes first
